


how rare and beautiful we found each other

by Anonymous



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Badass Katara (Avatar), F/M, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, Misogyny, Political Alliances, There Is No War In Ba Sing Se, There was never a war, True Love, Zuko is a Prince, basically they fall in love and it is soft, in a world without conflict, there is therefore no aang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Prince Zuko,” she quirks up at him, hands over her chest in a gesture that is more assertive than angry.“Lady Katara,” he responds in kind, his eyes searing into hers. “It is good to see you again. I will admit, a part of me yesterday believed you wouldn’t come back.”Katara and Zuko fall in love in a world without war.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 353
Collections: anonymous





	how rare and beautiful we found each other

**Author's Note:**

> this story is subpar and i was incredibly undeveloped as a writer and person while writing it so sorry (therefore anon-ed)

Katara is bored.

She knows that she shouldn’t be. She has no reason to be. Her life, abstractly, is totally fine. She has a family that loves her and she’s a bender and healer, and people would kill for what she has — the privileged life of a chief’s daughter. She should have no complaints.

But  _ she does.  _

She’s rather tired of this existence — she feels like the gender roles of the Water Tribes are archaic at best and that she’s  _ so limited  _ where she is. Her tribe won’t let her learn any sort of slightly combative ability, not even just to practice with. She spends her days mending clothes and cooking and healing. 

Sokka gets to have everything — he’s the  _ son  _ of the Chief and it’s likely he’ll be on the council when he’s older, with all the prowess he’s showing now as a great huntsman and his diplomatic worldview. He’s the star of everyone’s eyes, and she’s jealous even as she loves him. Huffing, the next stitch she places into the skin is rough; the needle runs through the top part of her fingerbone and she groans, drawing attention from Kanna. 

“Careful,” her grandmother whispers, and Katara sighs and heals the cut. “I know that you’re disappointed but you don’t want to hurt yourself.”

She eyes the whalebone in her hand and throws the blanket she’s been crafting onto the floor before settling back against the side of the ice-room. It’s freezing outside, as always, but they are insulated in the cabin and the stove is running across from her. It lends enough heat for her cheeks to grow red in anger and she heaves with her hands crossed. “This isn’t fair,” she growls.

Kanna reaches out and touches her shoulder and Katara relaxes a bit into the hand. “Do you really hate it that much?”

It takes her a minute. “Yes,” she says decisively. “ _ I  _ want to be able to make decisions for myself and it’s —  _ it’s not fair  _ that Sokka gets to do everything because he’s a guy and —”

“You know men are traditionally stronger —”

“Oh, save it,” she gripes. “I could be so much better at hunting and building if I was allowed to waterbend but they won’t even allow that. And come on,” she makes eye contact, “you can’t like it that much either, can you? That’s why you came here.”

Kanna considers. “Yes, the Northern Water Tribe is much worse than the South, still. But I still don’t think there is anything close to equality,” she looks into her granddaughter’s eyes and lets out a wan breath. “Well, don’t say I never tried to stop you.”

“What?”

“I think you should go to the council meeting, Katara. Address the chieftains. I know you’ve been thinking about it — remember, you talk in your sleep,” she adds when she sees the confused look on the girl’s face, “and I think it could be good for you.”

“They won’t take me seriously.”

Her grandmother shrugs and reaches down to collect the fallen half-done blanket in her arms. Katara reaches down to aid her (she can almost hear creaking bones). “Better to try.”

* * *

  
  


She’s always been rather hotheaded for being what she is — a waterbender — and she doesn’t realize that she should have chosen to champion her cause on another day until she’s marched into the room and seen the Fire Nation delegation sitting across from her father and brother and the rest of the cabinet. Inwardly she winces. 

The hall is large, built of stone and lit generously — more than normal with visitors — the product of years of toiling by her ancestors. The outsiders sit down across from her father and brother and those who work with them, all men in their prime dressed befitting their status. Sokka shifts in his seat when he sees her come in and gives her a frightened look. Her father does not see her at first but when he does his eyes grow alarmed. 

But before he is given the chance to condemn her hasty decision she is drawn to the others in the room. She has seen the fire people from a distance before, has seen their ships parked for diplomatic meetings, but she has never been close enough to observe how they  _ look.  _ The man in the middle looks around Sokka’s age, and he is surrounded by various others swathed in satin under their heavy crimson winter coats. They all look rather proud, she decides at once, taking in their sharp features and militant stares. The clear leader has a scar marring his face, a burn scar. It’s ugly and yet strangely striking.

It is not him, however, who speaks up, but the woman sitting next to him. Yes — a woman. She has wide eyes and a strange quirk to her lips, separating her from almost everyone else in the echoing chamber. “And who would this be, Chief Hakoda?”

Her father’s eyes are telling her to leave. She can see the urging in his eyes but she holds her ground and moves to sit next to Sokka. There is an empty chair at his side; she recalls that one of the members is sick. Her brother’s mouth drops when she settles in, draping the fabric of her clothing over herself. She is the only female wearing blue.

Enough seconds to make the situation awkward proceed before Hakoda relents. “This is my daughter, Katara.”

The man in the middle has a single eyebrow and it furrows as his advisor to the left then speaks. “We have not seen her prior, Chief Hakoda. Is she a new addition to your counsel?”

The words have a strange undertone that she chooses to dwell on; it seems almost like a challenge, as if it is asking her father a question that everyone in the room knows. She isn't sure exactly what it is but she can feel his tension. “No, I believe that she is just . . . stepping in. She knows her place.”

“A pity,” the same man speaks again. “There is little female representation in the Water Tribes.”

The words hang in the air and she is suddenly enlightened. Her eyes narrow as she views all of the Fire Nation delegates before her — perhaps five — and sees how two of them are women. The first who had spoken up must barely be her age. 

For the Fire Nation to have a leadership that is almost half women — it is unheard of. Or at least something she has never heard of. In turn, they sit across from the tribe’s male leaders. It is jarring. But as the sparks connect in her mind a seed of thought seems to grow. It is rash and exactly what she is known for, and she lets a smirk form on her face as she folds back into her chair. After a few more seconds the elders seem to give up any hope that she will leave and resume the negotiations.

She pays close attention to the proceedings which follow. The discussion is on trade routes — there is a new waterway that both groups wish to make an official lane for transporting perishable goods. There is talk of developing a small settlement and of establishing a guard to police the area. It all sounds relatively decent to her, although she has little political experience and doesn’t truly understand the nuances of the plan. Her focus is also on the flame that the other woman across from her holds to better focus on the documents she has been presented. The woman is bending.

She learns that the scarred face belongs to a boy who goes by Prince Zuko, not heir to the throne but currently second in line. He is relatively silent, speaking only in affirmations and nodding in understanding. It’s all good and well except for the time she lifts her head up from Bato’s monotonous reading and sees his gold eyes looking right into hers.

It’s not an incendiary look. It looks relatively harmless if she’s to be honest. He seems like he is studying her. And so she does it back, taking the moment to pore over the severity of his disfigurement and acknowledge the well-carved face underneath. He narrows his gaze when he notices and she gives him a nearly imperceptible shrug in response. She thinks she sees the corners of his mouth lift.

He is drawn away when his shoulder is tapped and he is forced to look through the copious notes by his side. She watches as he looks up and then gives her what might have been a wink. His eye is a little distorted so it’s hard to tell; she assumes the worst and lets it go.

“Chief Hakoda,” he begins, and his voice, in full, is growing into its own. It seems powerful. “At our last meeting, the Earth Kingdom in kind asked me to discuss your equality practices with you.”

“We have heard this before, Prince Zuko. Our ideals stand strong.”

“I understand that some of your traditions are rooted in culture, Chief. But that does not change the fact that women are severely underrepresented in your culture —”

“Prince Zuko,” his voice grows threatening and she watches with interest and a strange feeling in her throat, “do not speak of that which you have no right to.”

“Unfortunately, I do have such a right,” he bites back, leaning forwards a little. She startles when she sees two swords tied to his back — is he not a bender? — “The Acolytes have previously brought this to my attention as well. I am just a vessel of this news. And —” he puts out a hand when murmurs rise from her side of the room — “we all have a vested interest in the well-being of your people, sir. Do you not believe that introducing more citizens into your workforce would expand your influence?”

He speaks flippantly and yet with an attitude that asks for respect, though he is outranked by her father. “We are the Southern Water Tribe. We are not like your  _ Fire Nation  _ and we have an interest in ourselves, not in power,” he nearly shouts, and she does admit that there is power in that statement. Although not of the sort she particularly agrees with. “Today’s negotiations are concluded. We will begin tomorrow in the evening as well. Let us arise for dinner,” he grits.

Chairs squeak as populations disperse, ready to discuss other topics between themselves and make small talk. The Fire Nation will return to their large ships at night. 

As the din grows larger Sokka turns to her, his dark skin almost flaming. “Katara! Why are you here? You know you’re not supposed to be here —”

“The Fire Nation has females,” she gestures at the congregation on the other side of the room. “Why can’t we?”

“Uh — Katara!” He yells out again but she’s already tiptoed around him, looking for the initial girl to talk to. She can  _ feel  _ her father behind her and she wants to avoid his anger yet. She crosses the divide and holds out her hand awkwardly to the sunny and approachable one, ignoring the strange glance she thinks she receives from the Prince talking to Bato on the side.

“I’m Katara. Nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Katara!” She bounces. Almost literally, and her handshake is violent and also bubbly. “I’m Ty Lee. It’s great to meet you! I’ve never seen a woman in the Water Tribe”

Her tone makes it hard for her words to hit Katara in the chest, but they do. “Ah, yeah. Your last points were . . . notable.”

“Are women really not allowed to fight or have positions of power here? I thought such ideals were dated . . .”

“They aren’t,” she says, slightly confused. “Women keep the home and sometimes they sell in the markets. They don’t fight.”

Ty Lee’s expression dims. “What about female benders? What do they do?”

“We heal,” she shrugs. 

“You’re a bender?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs and awkwardly avoids looking at the girl who’s staring at her with a sparkle in her eye. 

“That’s so cool! I haven’t really met many waterbenders before. I do know a lot of earthbenders, though, and of course firebenders. I can’t bend, but . . . I do know how to chi block, though, and I’m technically a noble. It’s kind of an adventure, you know, to come here with — oh, Zuko!”

Katara’s confused for a second before she hears someone cough behind her shoulder. When she whirls around he is standing right there, taller than the two of them and in robes embroidered with dragons. He ignores her gaze at first and looks pointedly at Ty Lee.

“Sorry, um, Prince Zuko.” She leans in Katara as if to mock-whisper, “I’m friends with his sister, you know, and I’ve known them for  _ forever.  _ He’ll always be Zuko to me.”

“Princess Katara —”

“I’m not a Princess,” she interrupts. “Just the chief’s daughter.”

“Very well,” his lip twitches. “It was interesting to see you today.”

The words hang in the air, almost like he is trying to convey another meaning. “You as well, Prince Zuko. I’ve never met anyone from the Fire Nation before. Are you always so forward?”

He leans in, looking intrigued by her rapidly spoken sentence. She panics for a second. “And what would that mean, in your eyes? Speaking of equality?”

She finds it ironic to speak in favor of a system that she dislikes but she also doesn’t want to dishonor her nation. “We have roles here, Prince. And as my father said it’s not your place to question them.”

Ty Lee raises her eyebrows at the two of them, now face to face, and slides out of the way. The Prince moves his hand to his side. “It might not be my place alone, but I talk as a representative of the other nations as well,” she’s about to retort but then he draws back his formal tone to softly speak, closer to her. “You don’t even seem convinced of your own words.”

“I am.”

He frowns. “You’re a bender, aren’t you?”

“I am —”

“Then you know, as I do, that bending should not be held back. The women of your tribe cannot fight. That is almost an infringement on your rights. It’s written in the legal code, you know. That all bending that is not to harm is allowed in all sectors.”

“I — what?” she frowns. His eyes grow light as he seems to draw forth another conclusion. 

“Are you allowed to bend, combatively, or, well, aggressively, at all?”

“No. It’s illegal, part of the tribal laws. It always has been that way.”

“There’s a loophole there,” he says after a minute. 

“Why are you invested in Water Tribe affairs anyways? This isn’t your concern. Shouldn’t you be in the Fire Nation?”

“I’m not  _ here  _ as just the Fire Prince. I’m also a liaison for the council,” he smirks.

They’ve been talking far too long. In the corner of her eye, she sees Sokka and her father having an aggravated conversation. Bato’s eyes are on her and the Prince, narrowed. She realizes that they are standing much too close and steps back. 

“You seem rather  _ eager  _ to invest yourself in our affairs,” she grumbles out. He shrugs.

“A way to prove myself. I will not inherit the throne so I can play other politics. Besides,” he also eyes the dirty looks they are receiving from her kin. “I doubt I will make any progress anyways. Better to try to fight for rights, as it is.”

She thinks she now understands what he is saying between his words, a carefully crafted tale. He leads up with a quieter whisper. “You seem intriguing, Lady Katara. I hope I will see you here again.”

With a quick wink he disappears behind her before she can correct his insinuation. She is not a lady by any means.

Then she turns to watch the rest of the Fire delegation leave and squirms a little as her father walks up to her. She’s prepared for a long scolding.

* * *

She prepares to attend the next day’s meeting with a skip in her step.

Katara’s father hadn’t quite approved of her actions and he let her know how much, but he isn’t cruel and he could only yell at her for a bit before taking a step back and discussing her transgression with his men. She’d been surprised that they were talking about it at all — she’d expected to be asked to leave the hall immediately, and now she is pushing her luck — and she’d been incredibly shocked when Hakoda came back to her with a light smile hidden in the folds of his face. 

“You will return tomorrow,” he’d stated, and then shoved Sokka in her direction and told him to bring her home. She’d been in shock for the journey but Sokka had relayed the consensus to her. 

“The Fire Nation likes the idea of you being here,” he shrugs. “You know we need these trade agreements to fall through. They’re fine with anything that will help.”

She’d seemed lax on the surface but her insides had been on fire. They have given her this much and she will take more. Her grandmother had held out her arms when Katara went to see her and she’d stepped away and related her tale of victory. She’d been given a wink back.

Katara readies her outfit one last time before joining Sokka outside; they stalk to the center silently until he slips a little and he helps her up. “You really do have a backbone, Katara. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

She would be offended but he seems more wondrous than attacked. “The Fire Nation seems to have women be equal to men, Sokka. I don’t get why we can’t.”

He shrugs. “I don’t really, either. Maybe things will start to change around here, with what the Prince said yesterday and all,” he narrows his eyebrows. “What were you talking about with him, anyway? That was kind of weird.”

“Nothing much. He was trying to talk about laws and other things like them.”

“Yeah, well,” he kicks a glob of snow out of the way as they reach inside, “be careful around him. He usually gets what he wants. He’s been coming here for years.”

“Hey, what —”

Before she can question his ominous phrasing he bounds up the steps and leaves her in the ice.

* * *

  
  


The meeting goes relatively well. Today is a continuation of yesterday’s, mainly discussing how to set up a few rest points on the trail. She pays attention but half-heartedly until Prince Zuko stands up again and reminds her people that more waterbenders would ease their construction efforts. He looks over to her as he talks, and she can’t help but give him a small grin for his valiant effort, no matter how quickly it is shot down.

She’s surprised when he returns it back.

Adjournment occurs once again after a couple of hours, and Chief Hakoda asks that the Fire delegation join them for dinner in the hall today. It’s a formality that they have to accept, and they mingle once again as they head for the dining room. Katara is about to approach Ty Lee again when she is interrupted by the Fire Prince.

“Prince Zuko,” she quirks up at him, hands over her chest in a gesture that is more assertive than angry. 

“Lady Katara,” he responds in kind, his eyes searing into hers. “It is good to see you again. I will admit, a part of me yesterday believed you wouldn’t come back.”

She scoffs and ignores the second half of that. “I’m no Lady, Prince.”

“Perhaps not here, but that’s your equivalent title —” she opens her mouth to argue but he continues, “please allow me to stick to  _ some  _ of my customs, My Lady.”

His tone is a little teasing at the end there. She looks around to see that everyone else is heading towards the dining room and nods for him to come with her. They step out last, next to each other. She’s surprised that he is conversing with her, here, of all people. The silence between them is more conciliatory than awkward so she lets it stir and focuses on keeping her gait straight. 

She settles down next to her father and he faces almost across from her. For whatever reason, they make eye contact whenever she looks up.

* * *

  
  


The next day is rather monotonous — she’s starting to realize that these meetings aren’t exactly supposed to be exciting — and so is the dinner. She and the Prince exchange several glances again and for she’s not that taken away by surprise when he walks to her and asks her if she’d like a tour of his ship after the processions. 

She has to look for her father’s permission. He knits his brows together and pauses for a moment before telling the other leader that she will join him in the afternoon hours of the next day. The Water Tribe works on a late schedule — they always have, and at this point in the year, with the darkness so omniscient, it doesn’t really matter. 

“Katara,” he says a little later, “the Fire Prince is fond of you.”

She lurches. “What —  _ what,  _ no. How would that work? We’ve barely talked.”

“Don’t think I haven’t seen the way he looks at you.”

Sokka murmurs something in agreement and she shoves him in the shoulder. “I’ve barely known him for two days and we’ve spoken of nothing but how to enforce equality.”

Hakoda sighs. “I understand his points — I wish the best for you. But I do not think the rest of the tribe, especially the others, would be so quick to enforce such roles.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“I know these ideals need to change for our standing to be more than this. Anyways, they are outdated. I’m sure your mother,” he frowns into the furs in the corner, “would agree.”

They are left in silence for a moment before Katara speaks up again. “So I  _ will  _ be allowed to go to the Fire Prince’s ship tomorrow?”

The thought makes her excited. She has never seen something made so strongly and exotically before, and curiosity runs rampant under her skin. Her father looks at her countenance with a strange look on his face. “Of course you can go. But Sokka should as well —”

“That’s not fair —”

“— not for you,” he continues, “but because I dislike how he looks at you.”

She blushes. “He doesn’t look at me like anything.”

Hakoda’s chest rumbles. “That’s not what the look on your face says —”

He is interrupted again by Sokka falling into pieces around a bowl of stew, cackling and pointing at his sister’s face. She stomps her feet in response but it’s rather lighthearted.

* * *

  
  


Prince Zuko is more relaxed on his boat. His hair is loose, not in that topknot she has consistently seen it in, and his robes are less elaborate. All in all, he looks more like a seventeen-year-old than royalty, and she thinks the visage fits him. 

He leads the two of them around his rather large vessel, and Katara is intrigued even as Sokka watches in boredom — not like he has seen anything like it before, either, but he doesn't really care. They walk through the halls where the other nobles live, a library, a weapons room (she raises her eyes at that, but he claims that it’s just for fun). They sit down for tea before they continue, Sokka staring listlessly into space and watching the liquid bounce around. He had only seemed slightly interested in the going-ons while they had been observing swords. It seems that Katara is not the only one to recognize this, because as Ty Lee pops in to give her a quick hello the Prince gestures for the bubbly girl to take Sokka back to the room with her. Her brother isn’t  _ technically  _ supposed to leave her alone but they shrug in tandem as he escapes. Then it is just her and him, sitting in a lavish room with cups near their mouths.

She decides to see this as more of an opportunity than anything else. “Prince Zuko. Your ship is truly lovely.”

He looks twisted as he puts down his cup and leans back, so  _ completely  _ informal. He is really so different here, with his hair flopping over the scar and a new spring in his movements. “You can call me Zuko, you know . . .”

“And then you can call  _ me  _ Katara,” she teases back. “None of this ‘My Lady’ nonsense.”

“Are we familiar with each other now, then?”

“I don’t know,” she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing, actually. “Are we?”

“I would like to be,” he says quietly. Another moment passes while she finishes the last sip of her tea. “Well,  _ Katara,  _ I do hope that my next room will take you by surprise. In a good way.”

She frowns. “Shouldn’t we collect Sokka?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” He doesn’t grab her arm — that would be improper — but he gestures for her to follow him. Perhaps it’s the lack of layers upon layers of clothing but she can feel the heat exuding from his skin now. He leads her around the seated cushions and out the door to another room across the hallway. When she walks in she realizes what it is, noting the scorch marks across the walls. 

“You . . . train here?”

“Yes,” he says, somewhat proudly. “I don’t . . . I don’t truly know if you would like to, but I did want to ask if you could show me some waterbending here. I . . . I’ve never seen a waterbender  _ bend  _ before.”

She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her. “Seen a lot of other waterbenders, then?”

He takes up her challenge. “No. Just you,” he leans in closer and his heat is more intense,  _ “Katara.” _

She shivers and moves to the side. “Do you have water here?”

He moves to the side and pulls out several waterskins — she smirks as she pulls the moisture out of them and feels it come together in her hands, and then gestures to him. “So, what? Wanna fight?”

His face grows steadily alarmed as he seems to understand the implications of what she’s saying. “Do you think that would be wise? What if you got injured?”

She doesn’t give herself time to think about the implications of attacking the Fire Nation’s Prince. He blocks her wave and it goes up in steam — with a hiss of his breath he gives her a grin, looking even more jarring as his skin bends with it. “Oh, you are  _ on.” _

* * *

  
  


Sokka comes with her the next day, but not the day after. She heals her bruises after her sparring sessions with Zuko and she knows her family isn’t completely blind but she is basking in the bliss of ignorance. 

  
  


Some part of her had always been slightly afraid of the unknown. She had lived her whole life within her village, knowing little of the outside world and being mostly compliant with the workings of her people. She wanted equality, yes, but beyond that she didn’t think much of adventure or of a world beyond the ice. Katara had settled into the thought of living out her days here quite peacefully.

Zuko overturned her existence.

Five days later they have become more comfortable. Her father doesn’t seem to  _ want  _ to allow her to spend time with him, but she just tells him that she’s spending the majority of her trips with Ty Lee and he simmers off. She walks to his boat every morning and they talk and drink tea for an hour or so before they train, violently. It’s as if she’s discovered a new world with him.

She doesn’t need to explain the icy South to him, so he tells her stories of the world he’s seen, from the striking enormity of the palace he was raised in to the Earth kingdom abodes he has spent the past two years visiting. She’s enraptured by his tales about thousands of different people and foods and architecture and she gradually moves closer and closer to him until she is but a hand’s width away from his heat. Today he waves his hands as he tries to explain turtleducks to her, and she smiles secretly as she realizes just how comfortable he is now. 

“And they’re really very protective of their young, you know, kind of like humans,” he leans back, and his body temperature flairs, “my mother loves spending time with them.”

He hasn’t ever talked about his family to her before. She’s given him the outline of hers, talked about how her grandmother ran away and how her father is strong and how she mothers Sokka after  _ their  _ mother was lost during a fishing expedition years ago. He’d grabbed her hand and been silent, and they’d stewed in something much too comfortable. 

“Your mother?” she prods.

She’s thinking she’s overstepped and is about to take it back when he lets out a long breath. “She’s fine, now. She’s back home,” he gives her a little bit of a smile and a look of remorse as well, “and she’s okay.”

“But she . . . wasn’t, always, was she?” That’s the only explanation.

The cushions are a little ostentatious but still easy to relax into. She’s never been around items so conducive to lax enjoyment. She lets out a breath and falls further into the one across from him, at an angle, her eyes facing his chest. It’s not appropriate at all but they’re friends and it’s not like anyone will ever know. 

He turns to face her. “Do you know anything about my father?”

She scrunches up her face. “I . . . I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m second in line after Lu Ten because my father . . . well, he’s banished. My father was a terrible man. He used to . . .” he throws his head back before rushing out the rest of his words. “He used to hit my mother, and sometimes me, and sometimes my sister. One day my uncle found out and that was the end of it. But my mother . . . sometimes I think that she still might not be. He was really terrible to her.”

She comes to an assumption of her own and she knows she’s probably hit close to the mark by the pained look on his face. She reaches over and gives him her hand — his burning palms take it and hold it loosely. A thought sneaks its way into her mind.

“Zuko? Your scar . . .”

“— yeah,” he looks remorseful and almost destroyed. “My uncle found out after I challenged my father to a duel — a formal one, we call it an Agni Kai. I was thirteen, and I couldn’t win, but he had beat my mother right in front of me and I was so  _ tired  _ of living like that. I know, it’s terrible and ugly.”

Another sharp intake of breath and she stares at her hand as it rises like it’s an out of body experience. It slips out of his warm grip and she raises her fingers a hair’s breadth away from his face, away from the red scar that puckers up over his eye. She’d stopped thinking about it after a while, and it had just become a part of him. 

There’s a moment where they look into each other’s eyes and she stares into his asking a simple question. Nothing changes, explicitly, but she feels his silent permission and splays her fingers across his scar. The skin is raised and uneven, red and terrible, but it doesn’t feel wrong. “It’s not ugly at all, Zuko.”

He reaches a hand up to loosely wrap his fingers around her wrist. “You don’t have to lie to me, Katara.”

“I’m not,” she lets a soft smile grace her features and continues dancing her fingertips underneath his eye. “It’s beautiful, in a strange way. And . . . oh,” she scrunches her face together. “Do you want me to try to heal it? I’ve never healed a burn before but I could try . . .”

His grip tightens, and she feels like she shouldn’t be okay with being this close to him but she is. “No, I . . . I hate it, partly, but even if you heal it I don’t think I’d want you to. It’s a reminder of everything I never want to be.”

She lets out an understanding nod. “I’m glad, you know. It’s just a part of you, it doesn’t define you.”

His eyes look hazily into hers and she moves one of her fingers to the side to put a lock of hair between his mangled ear.  _ They are so close. _

And then another deep breath. “My sister, Azula, well, she isn’t quite . . . right in the head, now. He’d been messing with her for so long that her mind sort of trapped herself. She’s your age,” he lets out a wane grin. “But she’s so  _ different.  _ She’s a very strong bender, her fire’s blue. Father saw her as more of a weapon than just a kid.”

“Oh. Is she . . . is she getting better?”

“I think a little. She’s under medical care, now. I’ll be seeing her again.”

“Maybe . . . maybe I could meet her, someday.”

“Yeah,” his exhale catches until he is lined up to her. They’re  _ touching  _ in so many ways they should not. “Definitely.”

Then he surges down to kiss her.

  
  


* * *

Her life has been busy but some things still stay the same — Sokka sits down with her and her stitching, practicing forms with his sword. She’s almost sure that it’s from the weaponry, but when she’d asked him outright he’d shrugged. 

She checks to ensure that nobody is around before waving her hand and slightly melting the ice around him. He slips forwards next to her with a small creak and she giggles. Her mood has been so completely playful for the past few days, even if nothing has outwardly changed. She and Zuko haven’t done anything besides kiss but their touches and words intertwine and  _ mean  _ so much more now. Just the thought brings a blush to the forefront of her face.

Sokka gets up and dusts off the snow from his coat. “C’mon, that one wasn’t fair!”

“It was funny, though,” she grins, and he gives her a mocking salute before grabbing his sword again and sitting next to her. The weather is freezing but they’re both bundled up and they’ve been spending a lot of time inside.

“So, what’s been going on with you and fireboy?”

She rolls her eyes. “Really, Sokka?”

He shrugs. “I’m just asking, you know I love you. Dad isn’t exactly happy about the fact that you’ve been spending every waking moment with him.”

“Nothing’s going on, you know. We’re just friends. I like his boat.”

Sokka raises his eyebrows. “Right. I never asked if you were friends or not.”

She clams up. “Uh . . .”

Softly, he takes her needle and grabs the fabric in her hands and puts them aside onto the bank, ensuring that the soft insides aren’t ruined in the snow. “Katara. You know dad is barely letting you go on that boat. It’s full of people from the Fire Nation, and you know their culture is different than ours. Right now the entire council is being lenient because of these trade deals. But if you were going  _ anywhere  _ else you’d be done for.”

Katara crosses her arms. “That doesn’t make any  _ sense,  _ Sokka. They don’t control me.”

“I know, I know,” he holds his hands out as if he’s surrendering before his usually lax expression grows serious once again. “But beliefs don’t just change tribal customs. You turn sixteen in barely a few months, and that’s when you’re at the right age for courting.”

“I  _ am not going to court anyone  _ —”

“Yeah. Well, I know that. But you know how weird everyone is with these customs and right now nobody is disputing the fact that you’ve been spending quite a lot of time with the Prince of an entirely different nation. You’re lucky the fire people are so private, or there would be different stories running around.” Taking in her affected look, he sighs and holds out his hands. She falls into him. “Do you like him, Katara?”

She knows she can’t run away from this one so she just puts her face into her hands and nods. She can feel his chest retract. “Katara . . .”

“He’s amazing, Sokka. Seriously, he’s smart and sharp and attractive and he’s just so  _ good  _ — you have no idea what he’s been through, why he’s so alright with helping this place get more equal, he’s a prince but he’s gone through so much. And,” she throws caution to the wind, “he’s a good kisser.”

“Ew!” Sokka shouts, shoving her off of him. She lands on her back beneath him, cracking up at the disgusted expression on his face. “I didn’t need to know that. I never needed to know that.”

After running out of breath in the sharp air they calm down and reface each other. “I do really like him, Sokka.”

Her brother sobers up to deeply trace the lines of her face before sighing. “He’s not even from here. He’s a Prince from a whole entire world. And you’re young, he’s young — where could this go?”

She coughs. “It’s not like we’re getting married or anything.”

“Yet,” he says, meaningfully. 

* * *

  
  
  


The water spikes up at him and he vanishes it, shooting her knees as she jumps out of the way. His next blow is targeted at her arm and she douses it before sliding swiftly behind him, blocking his vision with waves right into his face. He sputters and spits and when he can see again she’s poised behind him.

“Katara?” he asks, quite worriedly, before she holds up a knife made of ice to his throat, legs hiked up to his waist. 

“Got you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he surrenders in her grasp and she falls off of his back only to collapse once again into his arms. He holds her tight and she runs a hand over the bruises on his shoulder that had developed after she shoved him into a wall, healing them. After she finishes she settles back down into him, breathing out her remaining adrenaline into his heat. She likes these moments.

And then the door slams urgently open. His grip loosens — they aren’t exactly hiding from anyone, but best not to have an unwelcome visitor see them together. It ends up to be Jee, one of Zuko’s officers. He doesn’t flinch when he sees two of them close, simply reaching out to give his Prince a letter. 

“Another boat arrived, sir. There is terrible news from the Fire Lord.”

Zuko frowns and tells him to leave, closing the door and opening the letter in front of her. His eyes switch from terrified to confused in the span of a second, devouring the words scratched into the parchment. She stands a few feet away from him, a little confused as well, and lets out a little squeak as it goes up in flames. When the little bit of smoke averts she sees his legs grow wobbly and barely reaches him in time to support his back as he falls to the ground, his head in his hands. 

“Hey, hey. What — what’s wrong?”

“It’s — my cousin,” he says after a whimper comes through. 

“Lu Ten?”

“Yes, he — he was killed.”

_ “What?” _

It takes her a second to process this information and another one to truly understand what it means. Lu Ten is the Fire Lord’s son, and without him the throne would go to the Fire Lord’s brother’s family next. And if Ozai is banished then it means that the new heir to the throne is no longer him, but his oldest child . . .

“Pirates,” he shifts his face to her shoulder. “My uncle . . . wants me back as soon as possible. For the rites, and to prepare for my . . . new duties.”

The last words are whispers and hit her right in the chest. His new duties — the Fire Lord cannot walk across the realms and serve as an ambassador. His job is in domestic affairs, with his people. And if Zuko must become him then that must mean that he will have to return back home. Perhaps permanently. 

It feels like some kind of stone has wormed its way into her chest. “You’re going to have to leave, then.”

Her words hang heavy before he mutters his reply into her skin. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

_ Oh. _

“Katara, I . . .”

“It’s alright, Zuko,” she says rather self-deprecatingly. “It’s not like I thought you were going to stay here, forever. I — I really like you, but you have a duty to your people. You should go back home. I’ll be fine. This was,” she breathes in, “this was incredible.”

She’s not ready for the somewhat heartbroken look on his face. “I was asking if you wanted to come with me.”

She inhales sharply. “Come  _ with  _ you? Zuko —”

“It’s going to be different,” he blurts out, pulling back and placing her hands into his. “I won’t travel anymore, not as much, and I’ll spend a lot of time in the palace, with the advisors, but Katara, it would be great, can’t you see? It’s a whole new world, different from here, and I could give you anything you wanted. We could be —”

“Oh,  _ Zuko,”  _ she closes her hand over his mouth, not able to hear him go on any longer. The offer seems all too tempting — to leave this known place and to go somewhere she has never dreamed of. But she knows it is more than that. “Zuko, this is such a big opportunity.”

“I know!” He retorts, taking it off. “And I want to spend this time with you. Please, Katara? I know we have something.”

“We’re so young. We can’t know what we have.”

“So what? I’ll be legal in the Fire Nation and you can be legal here in just a few months, and then we can start officially courting. It would be so perfect. I really, really like you, Katara. I think I might love you.”

She draws back. “I’m fifteen. You’re seventeen and you’re about to rule a  _ nation.  _ I couldn’t . . . what would your nation think, if you were with a foreigner? A waterbender?”

He growls, but it’s more pitiful than angry. “I don’t care. I can have the advisors work on it. I’ll make it political. Nobody would question me. Everyone loves a good love story.”

“Is that what we are?” she stares at him. “A love story?”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips, can even be seen in his distorted eye. “I think so.”

She doesn’t quite know what to say to that. She can’t unwrap her feelings on him, strong as they may be. But she knows one thing. “I can’t go with you.”

He looks downtrodden at that. His hair hangs weakly in front of his face and she reaches out to remove it from his line of sight and he jumps back like he’s been betrayed. “W—why not?”

She touches his scar and this time he doesn’t shrink away, and she takes her time running over its ridges before falling back. “I like you a lot, Zuko. But right now, my place is here. I can make a change here, I really think I can. I can get equality in the tribe, I can get them to listen to me. I’ve made so much progress within a week. Think about what I could do in a year. I owe it to my people.”

This time the expression in his eyes is unreadable, so she cajoles him again. “You know how important my people are. You’re going to go rule  _ your  _ people. I want to make sure mine are okay. And . . . and this isn’t a never, okay? Just a not-right-now.”

His eyes shut tight and when they open again they’re full of a different kind of resolve. “Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”

“Alright?”

He nods at her and then falls back, pressing his lips against hers and slamming her back against the scorched walls of the room. She leans into him, moaning as he pulls back and stares fiercely into her eyes. “That wasn’t a goodbye, Katara. I’m going to come back.”

“Okay,” she lets out a soft smile before turning them around and placing him against the marks.

Zuko leaves on another boat to go back home, and the others stay to conclude the talks. The Water Tribe understands why the Prince is gone, and even though Ty Lee helps her bring up her agenda again and again she can’t help but picture a boy in a scar smirking at her while she speaks. 

* * *

  
  


Her sixteenth comes with the usual celebration that occurs when Water Tribe girls become of age. The day itself is amazing, a spiral of time spent with her friends and family, and she thinks of her mother when she closes her eyes. It’s the day after, while Kanna is in another room and Sokka hunts with the others, that her father sits down and talks to her. 

“I have another birthday present for you,” he smiles as they settle down onto the furs. “The law, the one allowing combative bending and hunting work for the women of the tribes — I think you’ve achieved a majority, Katara. I think they’re going to be passed.”

“Really?” she almost shouts, and at his nod she barrels herself into his arms. She’d not been allowed into regular meetings after their visitors left, but she’d snuck in her proposed addition to the tribal laws in the week before. Some part of her did have hope that they would be taken seriously.

“More young than old, I suppose,” he holds her close. “My little girl is growing up, isn’t she. Now a seat on the council . . .”

She gasps again and he winks at her. “That’s incredible. I can’t believe it really worked.”

“You happen to be very persuasive,” he teases before leaning back. “But also . . . you’re of age now. I already have been given proposals to consider for you.”

She thinks about a powerful bender with a smirk and a scar and shakes her head defiantly. “I don’t want to court anyone, Dad.”

He sighs. “You don’t?” 

“Not . . . anyone from here.”

The corner of his lip twitches. “Would there, be, perhaps, a Fire Prince in your line of sight?”

“Dad . . .”

“I’m not blind, Katara. I’m assuming you spent a decent amount of time with him while he was here. Hopefully being appropriate —”

_ “Dad!  _ What’s the point of this, anyway?”

“I don’t want you to have false hopes for him. He’s the Fire Prince, he will one day be the Fire Lord — that is a lot of responsibility for him to have. And this is a fledgling romance.”

She gives him a dark look. “I believe in Zuko.”

“Be as it may, what are you going to do? Wait for him? I will not force you, of course, but you will need to start courting soon, Katara.”

“I’ll wait for him,” she crosses her arms. He tries again.

“You’re both so young. What you want might change . . .” 

She remembers saying similar words and bites her tongue, remembering Zuko’s face as they’d said their final goodbyes, his lips red and his face so open. “Give me a year, Dad. A year and I will court someone here.”

Katara thinks about adventure, of how much she loves her home but yearns to know more, of laws and rights and women who can hunt. She thinks about a raised scar and a week’s worth of eyes and a part of her thinks that her father is right — the other one says  _ wait. _

* * *

  
  
  


There is a ship on the horizon when she wakes. She knows so because Sokka shakes her out of her slumber, yelling something into her ear with the word  _ fire  _ and it drives her eyes open. That word tends to accomplish that reaction from her.

“There’s a Fire Nation ship coming. . . everyone is surprised, it’s not planned . . .”

She jerks up and throws on her coat, letting him lead her through the mild snow to where the ship is approaching. It looks like a trade ship, not one of war, although it is strangely opulent. Bato stands with her father in front of it, tall and stout. She shivers into her furs, daring to have hope, daring that her calculations were correct, that this is more than a coincidence.

Sokka murmurs, “It’s probably your fireboy,” right as the air around them clears and she makes out who the figure on the top deck, looking over below, is.

_ “Zuko!”  _ she exclaims, before realizing that Bato doesn’t know what her brother and father do. Blood rushes to her face but the rest of her is still somewhat warm, as if it’s expecting the body heat which she knows will come.

The moment they make eye contact, she knows, will stay in her mind forever. As will the beautiful smile that crosses his features immediately and the way he taps his fingers impatiently against the railing at the ship docks against the ice. The snow has lightened up and it feels utterly magical.

And then he  _ jumps  _ right into the snow, sinking in a bit, and she runs to him, not caring what the three men behind her think. He doesn’t rush towards her, a little preoccupied withdrawing his feet out of the bank, and he topples over when she lands on him.

It’s alright, at the end of it, because his body heat increases when she presses herself to him and the snow next to them all but disappears. She carelessly bends away the droplets near their bodies, and he reaches up and holds her as quickly as he can. It’s the two of them, stuck in their own little world, ignorant to the rest of the crew and her family.

“You’re back,” she says to him after she draws away a bit.

“You told me a year,” he says, sheepishly. “Is it so terrible that I counted every day?”

“No,” she grins, before hopping off and giving him a hand to pull him up again. “I wouldn’t pretend that I didn’t have my doubts, though. My father has been insisting that I should court someone.”

He lets his warmth fall into the sides of her face. “Wait, is there a particular way to court in the Southern Water Tribe?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Well, you would typically ask my father for permission.”

“Urgh,” he mumbles, and before she can question him he’s pulled away and has darted a few steps forward to bow before her father. She almost wants to laugh at how fast of a transition he managed.

“Sir. May I . . .” his mouth hangs open, “have . . . permission to court your daughter?”

Hakoda looks dumbstruck at the future heir of the Fire Nation leaning before him, but after a second he comes to his senses. “Get up, boy.”

“Yes, sir,” Zuko hastily raises himself back up. Sokka snorts silently into his hand after Katara gives him a warning look. 

“You came back to court my daughter, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will treat her honorably?”

“Of course, Chief Hakoda. The entire nation — and I, especially — greatly value our honor. I would give Katara everything I had.”

“And what would courting her entail? Would you . . .”

“Katara could come back to the Fire Nation with me, sir,” Zuko whispers after a moment. “But . . . only if she wanted to. I couldn’t force her to do anything. She loves her people and she loves what she does here.”

“Hmm,” Hakoda replies, staring at the newly minted man until Katara is scared that he will fall apart. She rushes to Zuko’s side, putting her hand around his back. “I would say that I allow you to court her, Prince Zuko, but I do not truly have a choice in the matter, anyways. My daughter will do as she deems appropriate,” so he turns to her. “Katara. You do want to court this boy? Potentially become . . .”

“Fire Lady,” he supplements, looking into her eyes, and she shivers.

“Yes, Fire Lady, one day?”

“I would like to court him, Dad,” she whispers after a second, crawling up into Zuko’s side. Hakoda watches them with his intense gaze before turning to Bato, who looks like he’s still processing the occurring events. 

“Well, let’s go to the hall and have a cup of tea, then.”

* * *

  
  


Katara doesn’t travel to the Fire Nation until she turns twenty. Zuko comes to visit her every year in between, staying for as long as he can before his duties call. Some part of her wishes greatly that Lu Ten was still here, that Zuko could live out his days here with her, but she can’t deny his calling.

And she  _ would  _ like to see the world. 

She hugs her family goodbye and is thrown a little party by all the new active benders, receiving smiles all around from the people she has helped. And then she settles onto the boat beside the man she is engaged to, a new necklace placed under her mother’s on her throat. He smiles at her while she points out the changes in the water as the temperature heats up, holding her hand as she sees a whole new world.

She receives some slack for being a foreigner in the role of the next Fire Lady, but the majority of the population of his nation love her and her kindness. Iroh makes time to join her for tea at least once a week, and she grows to appreciate the wisdom of the strange and powerful old man. Ursa hugs her when they meet, and it feels amazing to have a mother’s embrace again.

Azula is almost perpetually in her bed, but she’s fairly lucid when they meet, although some of her statements come out rather cold. Katara can bear being called a peasant in the moments that pass before the girl gushes about how amazing it will be to have a sister. 

On her wedding day she stands under a veil in the sunlight, facing the man she loves, her family in the crowd, and thinks about how fickle fate is. As she and Zuko are joined, forever, he whispers into her ear. “I am so glad that you interrupted that meeting . . .”

“I love you,” is all she can say, and he breathes it back. 

  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I tried to be as accurate as I could, but quite a few differences here compared to the actual show can be assigned to the there-was-no-war tag. That said this was not beta-ed and if you really disliked something, let me know and I'll go over it once my eyes stop bleeding. I know the whole misogyny stuff is a bit of a stretch but the Water Tribes are sort of dated, and this is a whole different world.


End file.
